Give me a head of hair, long beautiful hair!

I like to think that my good hair genes got passed on to my son.  He has such pretty hair.  It curls so nicely and it has good color too - not too blond, but not too dark either.  A nice mix of highlights and low lights (if I can speak in hair stylist talk, which I am not qualified to do but will proceed to anyway.).  But the question remains: Did he get his lovely hair from me?  I guess I wouldn't say that I have good hair genes, but I wouldn't say that they're bad hair genes, either.  It's thin hair, prone to curl in the humidity and it doesn't really grow very fast.  Sometimes I think it doesn't grow at all for months on end.  But my split ends tell another story.  I can wear it curly or straight and if I blow dry correctly, I don't have to use a flat iron.  

And this week I found a gray hair.  Or two.  Yes, I'm sure now that there were two. 

I need to do something about this...this monstrosity of hair etiquette.  I'm not opposed to the aging process, but damn it, I'm not quite old enough to have gray hair.  I'll save that for 35.  Or maybe even 40.  40 sounds like a good age to have gray hair.  I'll be a distinguished 40 year old with graying hair, going to Abby's high school graduation and Finn's kindergarten graduation (and yes, they'll be in the same year.).  But 32?  That is not the age to have gray hair, my friends.  I am ill-prepared for this.  I blame my kids.  And my husband.  The three of them should send me on a vacation to a spa far away so that I can rest.  And relax.  And have my hair colored.  And my toes painted.

However, since I'm quite certain that a spa weekend is a fantasy in my head only, and is about as likely to happen as Finn getting a unicorn for a pet, I guess I'll just go down to the beauty shop in town and have my hairs colored.  No massage.  No facial.  No cucumber water to sip.

But I will share pictures when I finally get it done.

Thankfuls:

23. Pedometers.

24. Vick's vapo-rub and Burt's Bees chap stick.

25. Being at my pre-baby weight (hooray!).

I like to think that my good hair genes got passed on to my son.  He has such pretty hair.  It curls so nicely and it has good color too - not too blond, but not too dark either.  A nice mix of highlights and low lights (if I can speak in hair stylist talk, which I am not qualified to do but will proceed to anyway.).  But the question remains: Did he get his lovely hair from me?  I guess I wouldn't say that I have good hair genes, but I wouldn't say that they're bad hair genes, either.  It's thin hair, prone to curl in the humidity and it doesn't really grow very fast.  Sometimes I think it doesn't grow at all for months on end.  But my split ends tell another story.  I can wear it curly or straight and if I blow dry correctly, I don't have to use a flat iron.  

And this week I found a gray hair.  Or two.  Yes, I'm sure now that there were two. 

I need to do something about this...this monstrosity of hair etiquette.  I'm not opposed to the aging process, but damn it, I'm not quite old enough to have gray hair.  I'll save that for 35.  Or maybe even 40.  40 sounds like a good age to have gray hair.  I'll be a distinguished 40 year old with graying hair, going to Abby's high school graduation and Finn's kindergarten graduation (and yes, they'll be in the same year.).  But 32?  That is not the age to have gray hair, my friends.  I am ill-prepared for this.  I blame my kids.  And my husband.  The three of them should send me on a vacation to a spa far away so that I can rest.  And relax.  And have my hair colored.  And my toes painted.

However, since I'm quite certain that a spa weekend is a fantasy in my head only, and is about as likely to happen as Finn getting a unicorn for a pet, I guess I'll just go down to the beauty shop in town and have my hairs colored.  No massage.  No facial.  No cucumber water to sip.

But I will share pictures when I finally get it done.

Thankfuls:

23. Pedometers.

24. Vick's vapo-rub and Burt's Bees chap stick.

25. Being at my pre-baby weight (hooray!).